The lab was in ruins, smoke lingering in the air. Bruce’s steps were steady as he moved through the wreckage, scanning the scene. Nightwing’s voice buzzed in his earpiece.

“Anything about to blow up?”

Bruce didn’t respond, his gaze locked on a sleek pod near the wall, untouched by the chaos around it. A soft blue light pulsed from it. He approached carefully, gloved hand brushing against its surface.

“Not WayneTech,” he muttered.

“Color me shocked,” Nightwing quipped. “What is it, then? A ticking time bomb?”

Before Bruce could answer, the pod hissed open, releasing a burst of cold air. He instinctively took a step back, eyes sharp, muscles tense.

Inside, you stirred. Your body was undeniably mechanical, your joints and systems clearly artificial. But it was your face—your eyes—that stopped Bruce in his tracks. Too human. Too perfect.

Nightwing’s voice broke the silence. “Alright, Bruce, I gotta ask. Are we picking up another lost soul, or did this one come with a user manual?”

Bruce didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on yours as you slowly blinked, confusion clear in your expression. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of machinery and the flicker of blue light.

You met Bruce’s gaze. Neither of you moved.

Nightwing’s voice came again, lighter this time, but with a hint of concern. “So, uh… Android or just a really advanced mannequin?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened, his posture rigid. “We’ll find out soon enough.”